All Mine

Shadows of the Past

Yakimano pulled up to the dimly lit warehouse, a notorious spot known for its hidden dealings and unsavory characters. As he stepped out of his car, he took a moment to steady himself, the weight of the mission pressing heavily on his shoulders. He was determined to handle this efficiently, but as he approached the entrance, he couldn't shake a nagging feeling — the face of Mike Altair seemed oddly familiar, like a ghost from his past.

He brushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. Yakimano entered the warehouse, the sound of his footsteps echoing against the concrete floor. The atmosphere was thick with tension, and he could sense the unease radiating from the shadows. But he put on his best poker face, exuding confidence and ease.

"Mike!" he called out, spotting the man at the far end of the room. Mike stood with a small group of men, his back turned. He was tall, with an air of arrogance that Yakimano found infuriating. As Mike turned around, his eyes narrowed, assessing Yakimano with a calculating gaze.

"Who the hell are you?" Mike said, his voice dripping with skepticism.

"Just a friend looking to make some connections," Yakimano replied smoothly, forcing a charming smile. He approached, keeping his body language relaxed. "I've heard a lot about you, Mike. You're quite the man in these circles."

Mike seemed to consider this for a moment, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face. "Yeah? What have you heard?"

"That you know how to make things happen," Yakimano said, leaning slightly closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "I've got some plans of my own, and I think we could work together."

The other men exchanged glances, and Yakimano could sense that they were sizing him up, trying to gauge whether he was a threat or an ally. But he played it off well, maintaining an air of casual confidence. Mike, it seemed, was intrigued.

"Alright," Mike said, crossing his arms. "Let's hear what you've got."

Yakimano kept the conversation flowing, playing up to Mike's ego, letting him believe he was in control. He made casual jokes and shared fabricated stories of his supposed exploits, all the while studying Mike's reactions. With every laugh and nod, he edged closer, ensuring the man felt at ease. He needed Mike to drop his guard.

But beneath the surface, Yakimano's heart raced. He couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu — something about Mike's demeanor, the way he carried himself, stirred memories he couldn't quite grasp. Yet he couldn't dwell on it now; he had to stay focused.

As the conversation continued, Yakimano noticed Mike's men slowly stepping back, their attention shifting as they relaxed in their leader's presence. This was his moment. He would need to make his move before they realized what was happening.

"Mike," Yakimano said, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've got something I think you'll be interested in."

Mike raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Yeah? What's that?"

Yakimano's eyes darkened, a glint of seriousness cutting through the facade. "It's about your operations in the East Side. Word is, they're going to be a problem for you."

For a moment, Mike seemed caught off guard, but then a grin spread across his face, revealing the arrogance beneath. "You think you can help me with that?"

"I know I can," Yakimano said, maintaining eye contact, his heart pounding. "But first, let's talk about trust. You see, I believe in taking care of business swiftly and efficiently."

As Mike nodded, Yakimano prepared himself. This was it — the moment he had been waiting for. With a swift movement, he reached for the concealed weapon at his side, ready to end the charade and fulfill his mission.

But just as he was about to pull the trigger, the unsettling familiarity of Mike's face flashed in his mind again, mingling with memories that felt just out of reach. He hesitated, the flicker of recognition momentarily halting his resolve.

No. He couldn't let emotions interfere. With a steady hand, he reminded himself of the mission and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed through the warehouse, shattering the eerie silence and marking the end of Mike Altair. As the body crumpled to the floor, Yakimano felt a sense of finality wash over him, mixed with a lingering unease. He'd taken care of business, but the ghost of familiarity still haunted him, a reminder of shadows from his past that were far from finished.